


Heavy Weather

by bioticbootyshaker



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 19:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5551694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticbootyshaker/pseuds/bioticbootyshaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Poe said that Finn needed a pilot, Finn had no idea just how true the words would prove to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavy Weather

_You need a pilot._

Yes, he had. And yes, he _did_. When Finn thought back on that first moment between he and Poe, he couldn't help but remember the shivers that had moved through him when Poe had spoken the words. He hadn't even known the man's name yet, and he had already tied him into knots. 

He hadn't even known his _own_ name, before Poe had affectionately called him, “Finn.”

And then...

Sand in his eyes and his throat and burning in his nose. Watching with his eyes squinted against the sun as the fighter he and Poe had escaped in sunk into the sand.

There had been no time for grief then, but it had followed him through the sand and, later, the stars, as he and Rey had put distance between themselves and Jakku.

Always, beneath the surface of his skin, the grief and the sadness pricked like glass. It was because of him that Poe was gone, after all. If he had planned better, if he had taken more time to secure himself an escape route or disabled the First Orders weapons, or... _something_ more, then Poe wouldn't have died.

Of course Poe wasn't dead, and when Finn had seen him, dropping from the cockpit of his fighter with a sunny grin on his face and his hair curled with sweat around his face, a feeling he couldn't put into words spread through his limbs and across his chest.

He hadn't thought -- which seemed to be a problem he had when it came to Poe Dameron -- before rushing to where Poe was and throwing his arms around him. In that moment, where he was pressed close to him and Poe's hands settled briefly on his hips before smoothing over his back, Finn felt truly and completely _safe_ for the first time in his life. There was the man who had given him his name, who had trusted him when he'd had no reason to, and who had fought bravely to see both of them freed from the evil of the First Order.

There was the man who had haunted his dreams since he'd watched the wreckage of their fighter sink into the sand.

“Your jacket---”

“Keep it,” Poe had said, warmly, his smile crooked and heart-meltingly sweet. “It suits you.”

Thinking back on that moment, Finn realized that was when he’d fallen in love with him.

And now---

Finn awoke to the sound of constant, mechanical beeping and the antiseptic smell that only existed in hospitals. He groaned, wrinkling his nose, and that was when he heard a laugh from his bedside.

Poe was there. He looked tired, but relieved, smiling his same sweet, gorgeous smile that made his dark eyes shine.

“Hey,” Poe said. “Gotta say, you look like shit.”

“ _Feel_ like shit,” Finn grumbled, voice low and deep. He scrubbed a hand over his face, wincing as pain rolled through him with only the slightest of movements. “Thought I'd be dead.”

“We all did,” Poe said. “Rey was worried. She didn't want to go, but---”

“Go?” Finn asked. “She's gone?”

Of course she was. Probably back to Jakku, now that their business was, at least for the moment, done. Her confrontation with Kylo Ren and the awakening of her Force powers had obviously not been enough to keep her from returning home; if Jakku could ever be considered home for anyone. Finn understood a longing for family, for peace and safety and home, but he could remember nothing from before he was taken, and he doubted Rey could remember much from before she was abandoned on Jakku. Home, he imagined, was something neither of them even knew, yet the ache for it persisted -- a yearning for something that had never even been.

So, yes, he understood. But that didn't mean he was happy to hear she'd gone.

“An R2 unit had the rest of the map,” Poe informed him. He seemed flippant about the matter, as if they hadn't almost died trying to keep their small part of the map safe -- as if Finn hadn't missed the past few weeks and lost time he could never hope to get back. “She's gone to find Skywalker.”

“Well, that's kriffing _nice to know_ ,” Finn snapped, before he could catch himself. “Anything else I should know, huh? I mean... I mean, _shit_ , Poe, how long have I been out of it?”

“Two weeks,” Poe said, with some emotion making his voice waver. Finn wasn't sure if it was sadness or anger or just an edge from an obvious lack of sleep, and he didn't particularly care. What in Maker's name did he have to be _upset_ about? “I've been sitting here for two weeks waiting for you to wake up, and sometimes you'd look like maybe you could understand me, but mostly... mostly, yeah, you've been out of it and I've been sitting here because everything is fucked up and Rey is gone and Solo is dead and General Organa is walking around like a droid because she doesn't know how to ever stop moving and I just---” He caught himself, realizing he'd been ranting, and looked down at his hands as a flush crept up over his face. “---I just wanted to be with someone. I was...”

“Lonely,” Finn finished for him. He reached out, meaning to pat his shoulder companionably, maybe give him a playful shove that would snap him from his sudden melancholy, but instead his fingers were in Poe's hair, close to the warmth of his scalp.

Maybe he expected Poe to pull away from his touch, to do the sensible thing and put some much needed distance between them. Or, perhaps, he expected Poe to do the least sensible thing he could have done and _close_ the distance between them completely. To leave not even an inch between their mouths and their skin and to finally, _finally_ , give Finn what he so desperately wanted.

But Poe didn't do either. He was still, and Finn nearly pulled his hand away before Poe whispered, “I was scared.”

What scared a man like Poe Dameron? He had knelt in the sand of Jakku and looked up at Kylo Ren and _joked_ , even as the sky had burned. He had endured torture and escaped with Finn from the heart of the First Order, smiling and laughing and so amazingly, inspiringly brave that Finn's heart had grown stronger just from watching him.

What could have possibly frightened a man like Poe Dameron?

“I thought I'd lost you,” Poe said. 

The words were like a punch in the chest. Finn forgot how to breathe, how to think, and his fingers tightened in Poe's hair, nails curling against his scalp. “Poe,” he said. He wasn't sure what to say, if he needed to say anything at all, if he even _could_ say anything with the emotion choking him, but he knew that he had to _try_. Poe had exposed something very delicate and vulnerable to him, and to say nothing was unthinkable.

“I'm sorry,” he said, because it was the only thing he could _think_ to say, because he _was_ sorry, in some small way. He was sorry that he'd worried Poe and Rey, sorry that he hadn't been strong enough to destroy Kylo Ren, sorry that he'd gotten himself wrapped up in such a mess.

Poe laughed. Not a small chuckle, either, but a laugh from his belly that shook his whole body. When he looked up, there were tears on his cheeks, and he wiped at them absently with the back of his hand as he snorted with laughter. 

“Finn,” he chuckled, gasping his name as he tried to get his breathing under control. “There's a _lot_ I expected to hear from you, but not an apology. _Kriff_ , what in the hell do you have to be sorry about?”

“Everything,” Finn said, flushing at Poe's laughter. “I could have done more, I could have--- I don't know, done _something_.”

His laughter had passed, but Poe was still smiling when he took Finn's face into his hands.

“Life is full of could-ofs,” he said. “Fuck, Finn, you ran right into everything and you stood up and fought, what else was there to do? You could have run and let the Resistance die, but you didn't. That means something, okay? It means everything.”

“Poe---”

“You ran into everything,” Poe continued. “It would've been easier to run away, but you saw what was happening and you ran _into_ it, and _that's_ what makes you amazing.”

“Poe---”

“You _chose_ to do good,” Poe overrode. “You chose to be better than you were told you were, and that's... that's really amazing, Finn. It's---”

“Poe,” Finn said. He could feel Poe's breath against his lips. Apparently Poe hadn't noticed the distance he'd closed during his glowing praise of him, and he was close enough for Finn to see the sweat at his temples, and how his hair curled there slightly.

“Ah,” Poe whispered. His tongue flicked out over his lips, and he pulled back, with obvious reluctance. “I didn't, uh---” He laughed again, with less strength than before, and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I'm sorry.”

Finn caught him by his collar. “What in the hell do you have to be _sorry_ about?” He asked, pulling Poe near. He liked the warmth of him, liked sinking into the dark depths of his eyes, liked the way he kept licking and biting his lips the closer Finn dragged him.

_You need a pilot._

_Yes_ , he had.

_Yes_ , he did.

Finn kissed him, because it felt right. It felt like the only thing he _could_ have done. 

And Poe kissed him back, because it felt right.

Because it felt like the only thing he could have done.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written much Star Wars fic, since I'm still pretty new to the fandom, but how I could I resist writing these two???


End file.
